Mommy Dearest
by M. Rhae
Summary: My name is f12g94r Matthews, and my mom is Jeanine Matthews. Everyone else just calls me F, but Mom doesn't like that. She gave me a bar code name so that she could track me wherever I went, so calling me "F" is improper and illogical. In the end, people always feel sorry for me, but I don't know why. I really love my mom.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hi there! My fellow fanfic friend (**Robert M.**) and I were thinking about how awful of a mother Jeanine would be, so here are some drabbles about the things she'd do to her daughter. Please read and review, and if you guys like it, we'll write more! Have a good day :)

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

I don't really remember it, but according to Mom, my actual birth was embarrassing. My foot had gotten stuck when I was coming out, and I had accidentally scratched Mom when I wiggled to get free. She said it had hurt, and when the doctors finally pulled me out, she wasn't too happy about the ordeal.

My name is f12g94r Matthews, and my mom is Jeanine Matthews. Everyone else just calls me F, but Mom doesn't like that because she gave me my name so that she could track me wherever I went. To her, I am the living replica of her DNA, and I am to be nourished and protected so that I can one day take her place as the leader of Erudite.

People always feel sorry for me, but I don't know why. I really love my mom.

**o1.**

**Age 5**

When I was little, Mom and I always played these weird little games. She'd quiz me on things about biology, chemistry, and physics, and if I got anything wrong, she'd slap me and make me read for an hour in the basement. There were some days where my cheeks would start to bleed, but other than that, I rather liked this game. It really helped me learn.

By the time I was five years old, Mom really set the bar high. She was starting to become really important in Erudite, and she did all kinds of experiments. One day after school, she was waiting for me in the living room. I placed my shoes on the mat and hung my coat on the hook, and when I looked up, she was smiling at me.

"Hello there, f12g94r," she said, moving to place her hand on my head. It was a soft, tender touch, and it wasn't something she normally did. I couldn't help but blush and grin up at her, and as she ran her fingers through my long, blonde hair, I think she understood how I felt. "Do you want to help Mommy with her research?"

Of course I was eager to help and was possibly even intoxicated by the fact that she was touching my hair and holding my hand, so how could I refuse? It would be a silly thing to do.

It was after that day I realized why Mom was so important. She was working with fear simulation serums, and honestly, they were incredibly frightening. I saw snakes and spiders along with war and dying, and it was just too, too much. Mom pulled me out of the simulation as soon as I started dreaming about my own murder, and when I screamed and was jostled awake, I started crying.

Surprisingly, Mom made soft, soothing sounds and held me to her chest while rubbing my back and kissing my head. My heart was still racing and my adrenaline was still flowing, but Mom's gentleness and the warmth of her embrace was enough to calm me down. I merely stayed still, letting her rock and comfort me like all good moms should do. It felt incredibly nice and comforting, and I didn't remember her doing that before.

It was with that feeling in mind that I let her inject me with the serum whenever she created a new variation. It hurt and it gave me nightmares, but afterwards, Mom would hold me and kiss me, her voice soft and her breath sweet.

Sometimes, you had to sacrifice a part of your soul to get the things you wanted in life. Like I said, we played all these games, and I had to figure out how I could win.

**o2.**

**Age 5**

This afternoon, Mom didn't come pick me up after school. She later told me it was supposed to be a learning experience, but I think she just forgot. I didn't mind, though.

School wasn't too far away from the Erudite headquarters, so I decided to just walk. It was a nice April day, and it had finally stopped raining. Even though the Erudite symbol was water, Mom told me that rain was sticky and wicked. It didn't do much except nourish the crops, and it only got in the way of her research. So naturally I hated the rain, too, and I was glad that I didn't have to walk home all wet and icky.

When I opened the front door and took off my shoes, the house was quiet. I took my backpack into the kitchen and looked around for Mom, but she wasn't there. Was she working in the basement?

She wasn't there, either, and I was starting to grow worried. Mom had a master schedule pinned to the refrigerator, and it said that she was supposed to be home cooking nourishment before her five o'clock meeting. So where was she? She _always _followed the schedule.

Just then, I heard a noise from the front room. There was a loud, clumsy thud, and as I walked over to it, I saw a man wearing a black mask.

"Who are you?" I asked, tilting my head and staring at his gun. "Do you know where my mom is?"

He merely stared at me, and for some reason, he looked afraid, like he thought I was going to hurt him. He backed up and hit the end table, and before I could yell at him for smashing Mom's favorite vase, he ran out the door. Now _I _had to pick up the mess.

"f12g94r," said a voice from the closet. It kind of sounded like Mom, and when I went over and opened it, it _was _her.

"Mom?" I said, puzzled as she flew from the closet and ran over to the kitchen, shuffling through papers. This was really starting to get creepy. "What's going on?"

Apparently, Mom was _really _important. Like really, really, _really _important. Someone had called her to let her know there was an attempted assassination, and she hid in the closet in order to stay alive.

I wasn't angry that she forgot to pick me up because I was happy that she was safe. After she fed me burnt toast and went into her office to request a set of bodyguards, I sat at the table and smiled. I loved my mom, and I was glad that she wasn't murdered today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hello there! Thanks for the reviews so far - I'm glad you guys like the story! Here are a couple more babbles. Fellow fanfic author **Robert M. **and I have a list of these short, silly situations, and we plan on using these as prompts for stories within the chapters.

If you all have any suggestions, please send them my way! Thanks again for reading.

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**o3.**

**Age 6**

** I used to have a fish before Mom ate it. She said pets were illogical, and I cried.**

His name was Popeye, and he was what you would expect him to be: a popeyed goldfish. I first saw him at the Merchandise Mart when Mom and I went there for my voice lessons. Mom had this obsession with speaking and singing clearly and articulately, and even though I always wanted to read and stay in my bedroom, she made me go to these lessons. I went every Saturday morning at seven o'clock, and Mom said she chose this time because the early bird caught the worm. I didn't really understand that analogy since I was human and I was merely going to a voice lesson, but I never said anything. Speaking up was illogical.

After my fourth singing lesson, Mom and I came across a little flea market when we were on our way back to Erudite headquarters. There was a great spread of people from all the different factions, and my eyes marveled at all of the different colors. There was blue, gray, black, yellow, white, red, green; there was _everything!_

"Don't stare at them, f12g94r." Mom squeezed my hand, and when I looked up at her, she was glaring at them. "Those idiots think they're making some sort of statement. They're not, and we shouldn't humor them."

However, as we rushed by a vendor who dealt with live animals, I stopped when I saw Popeye floating around in his tank. His gills were spread open as he swam and breathed for oxygen particles, and as Mom yelled and ordered me to return to her, I pressed my face against the glass. "Hello, little buddy. What are you doing? My name is f12g94r."

"He's just a swimmin'," said a low, cracked voice, and when I turned around, I saw a factionless lady smiling at me with a toothless grin. "Wouln' ya like ter take her home, love? Only a couple o' dollars will do it."

It took me a long time to convince Mom, but after I fell to my knees and begged her, attracting the attention of every single person in the vicinity, she finally pulled out her wallet and handed over the money. I held Popeye in my left hand while Mom practically crushed my right, and when we got home, she closed the door and turned the lock.

"Now f12g94r," she said, moving slowly so that she was standing in front of me. "Do you realize what you did today?"

My hand playing with the top of Popeye's water bag, I stopped to think. "I had my voice lessons, and then we bought Popeye."

"No." Mom put a hand to her head, and I saw the lines set in her face. "You made a mockery of me in front of those barbarians, and you forced me to buy you that pathetic clump of scales. Do you know how _humiliating _that was?"

I didn't know what was happening, so when Mom came over to the table and took Popeye, I didn't react. Surely she was just going to put him in a bowl, and surely there wasn't anything I could do anyway.

"Sometimes, we have to learn how to follow the rules." Mom took a pair of scissors from the drawer and cut open Popeye's bag. "Sometimes, we need to do as we are told."

Before I could do anything, Mom stuck her hand in the bag and pulled Popeye out by one of his fins. I cried and screamed for her to stop, but she ignored me. Opening her mouth wide, she slit Popeye's head with the scissors and then devoured the rest of his body, gulping and coughing before finally swallowing.

"I hope you learned your lesson, f12g94r." She bent down and looked me in the eye. "Pets are illogical, and so is disobeying your mother."

**o4.**

**Age 6**

** I remember my first sleepover at a friend's house. When I woke up, Mom was sitting next to me, and afterwards, I never saw Abigail again.**

Abigail Huntington is my best friend. Well, Abigail _was _my best friend until Mom cut her out of my life. At the time, none of us knew what was coming. It was a sunny day in late July, and Abigail asked if I could come over for a sleepover. I'd always heard about these mysterious things called sleepovers where girls painted each other's finger nails and slept in pink-colored tents, but I had never experienced it before. Mom told me that I wasn't missing out on anything, and she assured me that she was everything I'd ever need.

However, this time I didn't want to politely refuse. I really liked Abigail, and I thought we'd have a lot of fun. After I agreed, she had her dad drive us back over to my house, and he came in with me when I went to go tell Mom.

It was precisely 4:49, so Mom was surely preparing nutrients at the kitchen counter. Indeed she was, and as I flung off my shoes and ran over to her, excited at what a wonderful time I would have, I almost didn't notice the look of revolution that crossed her face when she saw Mr. Huntington.

"Hello," he said, following me into the kitchen and holding out his hand. "I'm Abigail Huntington's father."

"I know," said Mom, her smile fixed as she stared over at him. "Thank you for bringing f12g94r back, but may I ask why you've returned? I thought I was picking her up at six thirty."

"Mom, Abigail's having a sleepover!" I sang, pulling at her blue skirt so she'd look at me. "We were having such a good time, so she asked if I could just stay!"

"Did she?" Mom was still smiling, but it was weird. Her gray eyes had that blaze they got whenever she talked about Abnegation, but her smile was so sweet and lovely. "That's great, f12g94r, but we don't want to burden Mr. Huntington, do we? I'm sure he's far too busy."

"Actually, it wouldn't be a problem." Mr. Huntington smiled, and I saw Mom's jugular vein twitch. "The girls were having fun all afternoon, so we wouldn't mind to have her overnight. In fact, we'd be honored."

Usually Mom always gets her way, like when she insisted that she didn't need to have a driver's license to drive the Erudite cars, but I could tell that was going to let this slide. She sometimes got this little line on her forehead whenever something displeased her, and it was there now. "Well, alright then. Let's go upstairs and pack, f12g94r."

I couldn't believe it; it was too good to be true. I was finally going to attend a sleepover! I took Mom's hand and skipped up the stairs, and when we went to my bedroom and got out a blue duffle bag, I felt as if I were flying.

"I'm packing you one day's worth of clothes and one pair of pajamas," Mom explained, her voice tight. "I will be picking you up at six o'clock sharp, and you are to _never _spring this on me again. Do you understand me?"

Mom was mad, I knew, but I didn't care. I merely nodded and took the bag from her, running back downstairs and out to Mr. Huntington's truck. Abigail and I sang Erudite songs all the way back to her house, and after we ate dinner and then played outside in the grass, we shared a fizzy drink and then changed into our pajamas. We were tired, and it was almost time for bed. It was only logical to lay down and try to fall asleep.

In fact, I was so tired that I didn't even notice that someone broke into Abigail's house. It was around eleven o'clock, and as we were sleeping inside Abigail's pink tent, the zipper slowly began to trail downwards. I really was exhausted, so when I stirred and opened my eyes, I didn't know what I saw. "Who are you?"

I heard Abigail stir, and then I heard a soft, drawn-out shush as something touched my neck. The prick of the needle was familiar, and before I could do anything, I was fading into eternal blackness, hardly aware that someone was picking me up and carrying me out of the house.

When I woke up, I was in Mom's bed. It was strange, no doubt, and as I sat up, Mom was watching me.

"Where's Abigail?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. Mom was sitting on the covers, and her eyes were oddly soft yet fierce all at the same time.

"You don't need to worry about Abigail," she replied, moving to place her hand on my head. She never showed me affection, so I felt myself lulled as she stroked my hair. "You won't be seeing much of her anymore. I'm here, and I'm all you'll ever need."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks for the continued support. **Robert M. **and I are having so much fun writing this story, and we're glad that our entertainment is reciprocated. As always, read, enjoy, and drop off a review to let us know what you think!

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**o5.**

**Age 8**

**The first time I knew my mom was proud of me was when I locked her in the basement for four hours after I found her watching the Kardashians. I didn't know what that was, but Mom had told me to take action if I ever saw anything offensive and threatening, so I did.**

It was all quite strange, really. I was upstairs reading about organic chemistry and its various particles when I heard a strange noise. It sounded like a horse whinnying, but at the same time, it sounded like a woman. Mom certainly never made noises like that, so I assumed that she had company over. Being the curious Erudite that I was, I closed my book, slipped into my fuzzy blue slippers, and then went downstairs to check.

However, after I jumped over the last three steps and slid onto the floor of the living room, there wasn't anyone there. Instead, there were a bunch of people crowded into the screen of Mom's flat screen TV, and they were dancing and jumping around like Dauntless children during recess. They all had dark hair and really tan skin, and as I crept closer, they were yelling and screaming at each other.

Mom had taught me all of the bad words of the English language so that I could ward myself away from their perilous evils, and as I stood there and watched this mysterious TV show, I counted nine of those forbidden words. That was unacceptable and unforgiveable, and I knew it was what Mom had been warning me about.

"Hi Mom!" I screamed from back at the stairs. Just as I had anticipated, I heard Mom scramble out of her chair while abruptly shutting off the TV.

"f12g94r, what are you doing?!" Mom came out to the bottom of the staircase, and there was a scattered look in her pale gray eyes. "Shouldn't you be studying?"

After I convinced Mom to go downstairs so that she could "inject me with fear simulation serum," I ran out and slammed the door on her fingers. I then turned the key and put it in my pocket, just like she told me to do, and even though her voice let out a strong, constant chant of "you let me out of here this instant, f12g94r," I just pretended that I didn't hear her.

When I returned to the television set, it caught me by surprise. Pretty, loud-talking women who wore hardly any clothes were talking to each other on the screen. They wore mixed colors, and as I sat down in Mom's special chair, I listened to how all the women were being mean to each other.

This was unlike any TV show I'd ever seen, and the film quality was kind of grainy. It must have been very, very old. Likewise, the women looked and sounded different. They had a weird kind of nasalized accent, and they used some more bad words in conjunction with some weird slang, and I found myself irrevocably captivated by their sassy kind of charm.

"That's not for your eyes, f12g94r," Mom was saying from behind the basement door. I blocked her out. _Of course _she would say that in the hopes that I'd open the door. "f12g94r, I'm serious. This isn't a game. Turn it off and let me out."

As strange as it was, the TV show started to get boring after a while, and I knew that four hours was enough for Mom to have gotten the threat out of her immediate consciousness. When I finally went over to the basement door and turned the key to the right, I realized that I turned it the wrong way. After I turned it to the _left _and actually unlocked it, Mom swung the door open and came out to stand right in front of me.

"f12g94r, may I ask you what just happened?"

"I forgot which way unlocked the door," I admitted, feeling my face redden.

"No. Before that."

Everything with Mom was like a lesson in school, so I had to make sure that I was always sharp and always ready. It sometimes made me really nervous, but at that particular moment, I was confident that I remembered everything perfectly. "I locked you in the basement because you were watching something offensive and threatening. I heard the ladies scream bad words at each other, and even though you told me to let you out, I didn't because you told me that's what you'd trick me into doing."

Mom merely stared at me, her mouth slightly parted, so I continued. "You always warned me that there might be a time where your safety is at risk and where I have to save you, so that's what I did. I deleted the show from your browsing history and blocked it from coming in through our network waves, so you'll never be threatened by them again, Mom. I took action for you!"

In all sincerity, I was very proud of myself. Mom could be really scary, but deep down in my heart, I loved her so much that it _hurt_. I proved today that I wouldn't let her down and that she could always count on me, and likewise, I proved to myself that I wasn't a wuss like the Abnegations and that I was able to think quick on my feet.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you," Mom said, rolling her eyes and walking back to the TV. "Go upstairs and don't come down, even if I call for you. I might be in danger, so it's up to you to stay in your bedroom until tomorrow morning."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hey guys! Thanks again for all the support. You have no idea how fun this is for us to write. Here's what we consider to be the funniest chapter yet **(Robert M. **and I were literally dying of laughter when we were working on it at a Tim Hortons the other night), though I'll admit that it's a bit extremist. Anyway, I hope you all can share our humor! Thanks for reading, and let us know what you think!

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**o6.**

**Age 8**

** I really liked school. I learned so many useful things, like how to tie my shoes, how to play patty cake, how to jump rope, and how to annihilate anyone that threatened my mother.**

Specifically, as an Erudite, I learned how to hone and honor questions. _Everything _in life could be questioned and analyzed, so asking a question was akin to breathing in air. It was a very natural thing to do, and indeed, it was something I did often, like when I came across a foreign term while snooping around my house.

"Mrs. Applebaum?" I asked one day when I saw my teacher walking peaceably in the hallway. Mrs. Applebaum was an older, thickset woman with black, heavy glasses and a dark peach fuzz of a mustache, and she always wore sleek, ruffled suits of varying shades of blue. She was a true, thoroughbred Erudite like Mom and myself, and in a lot ways, I felt like she was someone I could trust.

"Yes, F?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"Certainly, dear.

"What's a Margaritaville?"

"W-what?"

"A Margaritaville," I repeated, slower this time. Did I mispronounce it or something? She looked really taken aback. "It looks like a blender, and Mom pours some clear stuff called 'Tequila' into it. She blends it with ice and fruit juice, and at ten o'clock _every _night on her master schedule, she refers to it as 'mixing alcoholic drink.'" Mrs. Applebaum's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, but I just couldn't help it. "What's 'alcoholic'?"

"Why, I – Your mother is!" Mrs. Applebaum halted mid-step, her jaw open and her nose crinkled. The atmosphere had changed from friendly to feral, and before she even said anything, I knew this wasn't going to end nicely. "Alcohol has been outlawed per _your mother's_ request. She _personally _drove the truck of the remaining contents and disposed of it beyond the wall. Are you telling me that she just took all of it _back to your house_?"

"I-I don't know," I answered. I was starting to get nervous. Why oh _why _did I have to be so curious! "I'm probably mistaken, Mrs. Applebaum. I am nothing but a petty little girl."

"Oh no you don't!" Mrs. Applebaum was standing right in front of my face, and I wondered what would happen if I reached out and touched her mustache. "That's just what your mother tells you to say! What do you _really _know?"

"N-nothing." _Stand tall and look directly into their eyes._ I could practically hear Mom's voice. "I know nothing. I _am _nothing."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Mom! Mom!" I pulled open the front door and then burst inside, not even bothering to take off my shoes. "_Mom!"_

"f12g94r?" Mom stepped out of the bathroom with a towel on her head and a mask of green mud on her face. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in school!" She was holding one of her "alcoholic drinks" in her hand, and I knew desperately that it was almost too late.

"Mom, _they're coming!"_

At that she stopped, her towel falling off to reveal a large nest of curlers. "_What _did you just say?"

"They're coming!"

"Who's 'they', f12g94r?"

"Mrs. Applebaum and some other people! I told them about your Margaritaville!"

"You _what_?!"

"It was an accident! I swear I'd never try to hurt you, Mom! I still don't even know what it is!"

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Mom set her drink down on the bathroom sink and then pointed towards the kitchen. "You know what to do."

I'd never seen Mom make so many "alcoholic drinks" at one time. She kept throwing ice and that clear stuff into the Margaritaville while simultaneously gulping down an entire pitcher of the stuff. I merely stood there and watched, handing her fruit juice and cleaning up when she spilled. I honestly didn't think she would stop. After a few minutes, however, she finally _did _stop, and she finally looked over at me.

"f12g94r," she said, turning her entire body around. She started to fall, and as she clutched the kitchen counter for support, I went over to her and held onto her waist, aware that Mrs. Applebaum could walk in at any second.

"What are we gonna do, Mom?" I asked, looking up at her face. She let out a burp, and she then started to laugh uncontrollably. I'd often wondered what Mom's laugh would sound like since she never laughed before, but even though the light, infectious sound was pleasant to my ears, I knew this wasn't the right time to be laughing.

A few months ago, Mom had taken me into her office and showed me something. She said that there might come a time when she's incapable of taking care of herself and where people are out to get her, and she told me that I had to do my best to save her and to ultimately save Erudite. She told me that she hid memory serums all around the house and that I was supposed to inject any intruders with it if they threatened her existence.

Well, I didn't know if this constituted as a true threat to Mom's _existence, _but I knew that Mrs. Applebaum was angry and that she probably wanted to hurt Mom. Taking care to set Mom down at the dining table, I went under the sink and grabbed the vial of memory serum above the plumbing, filling it with the blue liquid just as Mom had showed me.

"Jeanine, I know you're in here!" I suddenly heard Mrs. Applebaum's low, raspy voice, and as I ran around to the other side of the kitchen counter to spy on her, I saw her force her way into my house. "Your little smart ass daughter told me all your secrets!"

_Smart ass?_ That was one of the forbidden words of the English language. Only barbarians used them, Mom had said, and so like barbarians they would be treated. Crouching there behind the garbage can, I saw Mrs. Applebaum through a different kind of lens. She was an old, ugly has-been breaking into my house and screaming bad words at my mother, and at that moment, it was my responsibility to save Mom from any further threat.

Without warning, I jumped out from behind the counter and landed on top of Mrs. Applebaum's back. Surprised, she merely stood there and flailed her arms around like a monkey as I pressed the needle into her neck.

"I'm nothing but a petty little girl," I whispered, pressing down on the syringe. Mrs. Applebaum's eyes started to dull, and I looked away. I wasn't _that _into it. "I know nothing. I _am _nothing."

When her memory was reset, I ordered Mrs. Applebaum to tell everyone that she was senile and that she had made a false accusation, and as she quietly left my house, I looked over at Mom. She was now passed out with her head smashed ungraciously on the table, and I went over to her and untangled her hair.

"I did it, Mom," I said, pulling up another chair and sitting next to her so that I was holding her. She started to snore, and I pressed my cheek to the side of her face. "Mrs. Applebaum threatened you, so I annihilated her memory. Aren't you proud of me, Mom?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Thank you **so much** for the reviews, especially **4fears **for your continued support and **YouraverageErudite **and **Eka Evening **for also reading and reviewing my other Divergent story, **To Eradicate**. I really appreciate it! There's more to come for both, and I hope you'll like what will happen!

Well, here's another chapter of this saga. We're skipping around with F's age because we're just writing the scenarios as they materialize in our heads, so I hope the variation isn't too confusing. We have some more chapters in-the-works, so I hope to be able to update as quickly as I've been. Thanks again for reading! :)

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**o7.**

**Age 7**

** Today, Mom snuck into my room while I was sleeping and told me to stop dreaming about other people's mothers. She hooked my brain up to a machine and had been watching me, and I felt really, really bad.**

It wasn't like I did it on purpose, though. Amanda Brown's mom was just one of the greatest people I'd ever seen in my entire life. She was tall and pretty, and she gave the _best _hugs, though I never told Mom that. Additionally, Mrs. Brown walked me home from school a lot because Mom hardly ever showed up. Mrs. Brown didn't _have _to come with me since Mom wrote me a special permission slip that stated I could walk home by myself whenever I wanted, but I appreciated the company of Amanda and her mom. I got lonely sometimes, and Mrs. Brown always knew how to make me smile.

"Your hair looks so pretty, F," said Mrs. Brown as we walked downtown towards my house. She put her hand on my head and played with a golden strand. "You must get it from your mother."

"Actually, I don't," I explained, finding my cheeks warm from Mrs. Brown's touch. "My mom's a fake blonde. She _really _has brown hair, but she says blonde hair makes people less suspicious, so she dyes it."

"Oh? Well, perhaps you get it from your father, then?"

"Maybe," I sighed, looking off into the distance. I wasn't going to tell Mrs. Brown that I didn't know who my father was since I had been artificially inseminated. Mom always told me that there was nothing wrong with the circumstances of my birth and that I should be proud of the fact that I was raised by someone so important in Erudite, but it just seemed to be too complicated of a story to tell people. So I held my tongue, like usual.

When we got back to my house, Mom wasn't in the kitchen, so I told Mrs. Brown to just leave. Mom could be anywhere doing anything, like working on her top-secret fear simulation serums, so I had to try and dismantle any intruding contact. It was one of the unspoken rules of the house, and I knew better than to go against my mother. I had to make sure she was publically visible before I did anything, and if I disobeyed her, I would be punished. It was as simple as that.

"Really, I can wait," said Mrs. Brown, leaning against the side of my house with her arms crossed. "I'd like to have a talk with your mother. Some of the other parents and I worry about the way you're being raised, F."

I didn't see that coming and I didn't really know what it was supposed to mean, so I just left it alone. There was a time and a place for curiosity, but it wasn't meant that particular moment. Against my better judgment, I invited them inside and led them over to the kitchen table, pretending all was hunky dory. Mom had all kinds of papers on the table that had the word "confidential" written on them, so I discreetly hid them under my arm.

Even though I didn't understand everything that Mom was doing, I knew it was important, and I knew that she'd want me to keep it secret. She had the most secrets out of everyone I knew (I _still _don't know how old she is), but that's okay because she's Jeanine Matthews. Mom says she can do what she wants due to her reputation and influence, and that was a good enough explanation for me.

We were all sitting down at the table by now, except for Mrs. Brown.

"What's under your arm, F?" The way she stared at me was kind of unsettling, and I felt myself fidget a little bit.

"Just my mom's papers," I said smoothly, smiling over at her.

"What kind of papers?"

"Just papers."

"May I see them?"

"No."

"Why not?" Mrs. Brown paused. "Does your mother have something to _hide_?"

This _was _rather confusing. I really liked Mrs. Brown, but she was acting quite odd. In a lot of ways, her behavior seemed in order with what Mom described as a "double-crossing traitor." I didn't understand what that meant, but by the way Mom had said it, I knew it was bad and that it was something similar to what Mrs. Brown was doing now since she was behaving both nicely and threateningly.

So, in order to defuse the situation, I changed the subject.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown, but I'm _really _hungry. I'm not allowed to use the kitchen because I'm nothing but a petty little girl, so, do you think…?"

Mrs. Brown was frowning, but I knew that a part of her was all soft and maternal and would melt over my asking her for help. Mom said most people were weak that way, and oftentimes Mom would react in the opposite manner and make you starve a little bit to teach you a lesson. Mrs. Brown, however, stood up at once and went over to the fridge, and I knew that I was out of hot water for the moment.

"Psst." Glancing up, I looked over at Amanda. She was playing with a Rubik's Cube, and her lips were pursed as she tried to figure it out. It was clear she hadn't said anything, so I must have just been hearing things.

"PSSST!" There was no mistaking that one, so I stood up and moved over towards the source of the noise. When I neared the hallway, an arm reached out and pulled me out of sight.

"f12g94r!" Mom was standing in the shadows of one of our plants, and her gray eyes were bulging down at me. She looked pale and tired like she hadn't rested in days, and in that instant, I knew that she had been deep into her research before we got home.

"Mom, I'm sorry," I said, trying to possibly explain myself. "Mrs. Brown said she wanted to see you because she didn't like the way I'm being raised, and she told me she'd wait outside until you got home. I didn't know what to do!"

"She doesn't like the way you're being raised?" Though Mom was tired, she was still sharp, and she loosened her grip a little. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know!" I looked into her eyes and tried to convey how confused and afraid I was. "She also wanted to look at these."

When I handed Mom back her papers, her eyes hardened again and she stuck them in the pocket of her lab coat. "This is serious. They need to leave, f12g94r. They need to leave _now._"

"But how?"

"I'll handle it." Mom stared at me a moment before moving to tap the top of my nose. "You did well to distract them, but now it's my turn."

I was never afraid of my mom, but if I ever had to be, it'd probably be at that moment. There was such a look of murderous determination on her face, and as she stood up and straightened herself out, I was relieved that I was on her side. Mom was very cunning and ruthless, and I knew that I'd be in a lot of trouble if I wasn't her daughter and so wasn't a replica of her DNA.

"Why hello there," she said, her low voice loud and clear. She walked out into the kitchen, taking me with her by the hand, and everything just stopped. Amanda looked up from her Rubik's cube, her cheeks draining of color, and Mrs. Brown closed the fridge, eyeing Mom carefully.

"Hello." Mrs. Brown's tone was curt. "I brought your daughter home again today."

"_Obviously_. You're standing in my kitchen."

"She waited about fifteen minutes for you."

"f12g94r knows to leave on her own if I don't arrive. Thank you for your generosity, but it wasn't at all necessary."

"Really? Kind of like how providing lunch money isn't necessary?"

"It's not necessary because I pack her a lunch."

"You pack her stale nuts and moldy bread."

"They're genetically modified and enhanced to help nourish her."

"I think that's a bunch of hogwash."

This was really, really embarrassing. Mom and Mrs. Brown were practically fighting over me, and it was so ridiculous because I wasn't worth it and because there wasn't any competition. I loved my mom with all my heart, and even though Mrs. Brown walked me home, played with my hair, gave me lunch money, and seemed to actually care about my thoughts and feelings, she wasn't my mother, and I couldn't love her in the same way.

"Thanks for bringing me home, Mrs. Brown. I forgot to check Mom's bedroom, and she was in there sleeping because she's not feeling very well."

"Yes," said Mom, giving my hand a squeeze and smiling down at me. "I need to rest, so unless you wish to be infected with my virus, please get out of my house."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

From that moment on, Mom started to pick me up from school more often. She said it interrupted her research and that I was more than capable of doing it by myself, but I think a part of her just wanted to keep me away from other people's moms.

Indeed, one day when she came over to the school door, she saw Mrs. Brown and Amanda. They were standing a few feet away, and their eyes had met dramatically as they recognized each other.

"Bye F," Mrs. Brown called over to me, her teal eyes wary as Mom hurriedly nudged me over to the company car.

"Her name," said Mom, turning back to glare at Mrs. Brown as she ducked my head into the car, "is _f-12-g-94-r_. And if I _ever _see you with her again, I will eradicate you. Good day."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter with a bit of a longer story in the second part. I'm now officially back to work at my summer job, so I unfortunately won't have has much free time to write and obsess over this story. However, I still hope to update fairly often, but please forgive me if I go MIA for a while. Thanks for reading, and please drop off a review!

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**o8.**

**Age 10 **

** When Mom became the official Erudite representative, it was really rather special. At the ceremony, she shook hands with the former Erudite leader and thanked him for his service. Afterwards when we were driving home, Mom asked me what his name was. Apparently she only learned the names of those she deemed to be worthy of the privilege, so she only ever called him "sir." In the end, she still doesn't really know who he is, but she doesn't care.**

On her special day, Mom was dressed in her absolute best. She wore a long, sky blue dress adorned with dark blue heels and sapphire earrings, and she looked simply exquisite. She sincerely turned heads since no one had ever seen her wear makeup before, and I glowed beside her in my little powder blue skirt and its matching cardigan.

But of course no one was really paying attention to me. It was Mom's day and Mom's moment, so I stepped aside and sat down quietly, watching everyone look at her. A lot of the people present were older Erudites with gray hair and grumpy expressions, but they all seemed to approve. Likewise, the younger members showed respect and courtesy towards her, and the entire time, I just couldn't believe how Mom was finally being rewarded for all of her painstakingly hard work.

I was so overjoyed, and when Mom accepted the position and gave her speech, which caused everyone in the room to jump to their feet and yowl their agreement, I felt like I had so much to say and relay to her. This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime type of moment, and there was no one in the world with which I'd rather spend it. Mom was everything to me, and I was so glad to be there to support her.

When we got in the car, however, we were silent for a very long time. Mom had suddenly gotten moody, and I knew better than to press her when she was having a hard time.

"f12g94r," said Mom after a while, her brows furrowed, "do you know the name of the man whose hand I shook at the ceremony?"

I just stopped, wondering if I had heard her correctly. "You mean our former leader?"

"Yes, him."

"Wasn't he like… Your boss?"

"Just answer the question, f12g94r!" Mom's tone was snappish, and I felt myself hunch forward like I always did when she yelled. "I never bothered to learn his name because I knew I'd be replacing him anyway."

"But doesn't the former leader hand-pick the new leader?" I was genuinely confused. Mom knew the procedures better than anyone else since she had just gotten elected, and I couldn't put together how she didn't know his name. "The election process is based on your IQ, but didn't our former leader have to know you personally so he could gauge how effective of a leader you'd be? So didn't you have a lot of one-on-one interaction with him?"

"f12g94r!" Mom slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. My book flew out of my lap and onto the dashboard, and Mom's hair fell out of place. "I am now your leader! You tell me what his name is!"

I finally told her, relieved as she nodded and then pulled back onto the road, but I'll admit the experience was dizzying. I was literally dizzy from the abrupt stop, but more intellectually, I was stumped at how Mom, who knew everything and everyone, was so stubborn and rebellious when it came to learning people's names.

**o9.**

**Age 10**

**The second time I had Mrs. Applebaum as a teacher was the shortest time I'd ever been in school. When Mom found out about my teaching arrangement, she tried to get it changed. She tried to have the various teachers switch positions, but no one could do it, so there was only one option left.**

"f12g94r, I'm pulling you from school." We were eating breakfast, and I was so surprised that my orange juice spilled over my front. Mom didn't notice, though, so I patted myself dry with a napkin.

"Why?" I asked, figuring she probably had a very good reason. Mom wasn't one to make snap decisions, so I knew she probably had been thinking about it for a long time.

"It just now occurred to me that I can't allow someone like Mrs. Applebaum to handle your education."

"Why not?" So much for the long, thought-out process. "I had her a couple of years ago…"

"That's precisely the problem, and I feel that it's time you had an upgrade." Mom put down her newspaper and sat up straighter, her gray eyes twinkling. "You don't need Mrs. Applebaum. I'm going to instruct you myself since I'm the only thing you'll ever need."

A lot of people would consider it an honor to be instructed by the leader of Erudite. Erudite's leader was the smartest, most influential person in the entire faction, so to be singled out and taught by them is a pleasure not many can experience. I was doubly as blessed since she was not only my teacher but also my mother, and I was so overwhelmed with happiness that I could only smile and nod my head.

However, lessons with Mom were nothing like the ones in school. Additionally, I wasn't treated the same as I was back in school, and I almost wished I could go back and be with all the other children.

From the first day, I knew that Mom expected a lot out of me. She told me that I would be having two types of training: scholarly training and secretarial training. The latter was what she started with, and after she called my school and told them I wouldn't be returning, she took me with her to work. I'd been with her numerous times in the past, but this time as we passed all the researchers and advanced through the endless maze that was headquarters, I felt a rush of unsuppressed excitement.

"What are we going to do first, Mom?"

"First you shall order my coffee." When my face fell, Mom turned to give me a soft, reproachful look. "You need to start from the bottom and work your way up. I can't let people think I give you special treatment, can I?"

Indeed Mom _didn't _give me special treatment; she held me to harsher standards. After providing her with coffee I had to go through all her files, and after I finally finished that, she wanted to teach me how to take notes for her during meetings.

It was right before her meeting with some of the Dauntless leaders that I finally said something. "But Mom, I haven't even finished my sixth year of school yet, and I'm only ten years old. What if I don't understand what's going on?"

"You'll be fine, f12g94r," Mom sighed. She looked up from her papers and reached out to tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind my ears. It was uncharacteristically gentle, and I actually saw something resembling warmth shimmering in her eyes. "I'm providing you with this training not only because you're the replica of my DNA but because you are smart, resourceful, and devoted. How many times have you saved me from undesirable situations? How many times would I have been lost without you?"

It wasn't like Mom to undeservingly flatter others, so at that moment, I knew I was actually special. The way she was smiling at me told me she really trusted me, and she _did _have a good point in that I had always been there to help her. I don't think she realized how much I loved her and cared about her, and with this position as her personal secretary and assistant, perhaps she would finally understand how much she meant to me.

There was a knock on the door, and I felt my heart jump as Mom nodded over to it. "That'll be Eric and Max from Dauntless. Let him in and then take your coat. We'll be leaving for the Dauntless compound in a few minutes."

o-o-o-o-o-o

The trip to Dauntless was just that: daunting. When Mom and I put on our coats and grabbed our bags, we made our way out to the Erudite parking lot. Max and Eric had insisted on taking the train and meeting us there, and as I went to climb into the limo after Mom, she held up a hand and prevented me from entering.

"f12g94r, I think you should ride the train with our guests."

"_What_?" Of all things Mom could say, I wasn't expecting _that. _She knew that I suffered from severe motion sickness, and also, I had only just recently reminded her that I was a ten year-old little girl.

"Do it. Don't cause a scene." Mom had that look in her eyes, and I knew it was illogical to argue. Mom won every single argument in which she ever participated, and especially since we were supposed to be acting all nice in front of our guests, I knew she'd be sorely disappointed if I tried to contradict her.

When the car started to move, Mom rolled down the window and called out to Eric and Max. "Boys, would you be so kind as to help dear little f12g94r? I don't want anything _too _bad happening to her. I'll see you all there."

With that she was gone, her presence a mere blur of black as the car sped off into the distance. I then turned over to Max and Eric, who were both quietly staring at me. "I hope you don't mind that I tag along."

Eric looked like he was about to punch or crush something, but Max, meanwhile, had a gentler glare on his face. "Of course not. We all do as the lady asks. The train is coming now, so please follow us and then break into a run."

They then burst out onto the grass, their heads snapping to the side as the whistles of the train sounded, and I swallowed all of my fear and then chased after them, feeling stupider and stupider by the minute. It was clear that my legs couldn't run any faster, so as Max and Eric climbed onto the train and then vanished from sight, I started to panic.

Mom would be so utterly enraged if she discovered I didn't make it onto the train because I was too slow. That'd showcase one of my prominent weaknesses, and according to Mom, I wasn't allowed to be weak. Those bearing the last name Matthews were superior and superlative, so I just had to make it work.

When I finally reached beside the train, I felt the very world jerk out of my reach as I jumped and made for the platform. I realized too late that I had miscalculated my jump, and as I expected to crash down to the ground and break one or possibly multiple limbs, something else happened.

A hand reached out and grabbed me by the waist, pulling me inside. Just like that the world refocused in full color, and as I turned around, I saw the middle-aged face of a Dauntless woman.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Her voice was rough, and as I leaned against the wall and tried to catch my breath, she was glaring at me. "Look, kid, I don't know what you're learning over there at Erudite, but you just can't jump onto the train like that. What would provoke you to do that?"

"My mother told me to do it," I responded, feeling my cheeks redden. She made me feel very much like an arrogant, ignorant child, and in a lot of ways, I imagined that I probably was. She kind of reminded me with Mom since her tone was sharp and unforgiving, but unlike Mom, a part of her seemed genuine.

"If your mother told you to jump of the Hancock building, would you do that, too?"

"Of course." I looked her straight in the eyes. "My mom is Jeanine Matthews, and since she's also my leader, I do as she says."

At that the woman bent down and looked me full in the face. "My name is Tori and I don't give a shit. Now get over to the front and get out of my compartment!"

She was terribly rude, but at the same time, she was compelling. Her scent reminded me of smoke and of Mom's "alcoholic drinks," but it wasn't necessarily an unpleasant smell. Nonetheless, I did as she said and went back over to Eric and Max, who looked both surprised and disappointed at my return.

"How did everything go?" We were finally at the Dauntless stop, and as I followed Eric and Max out onto the platform, Mom was watching me.

"Fine," said Max, shrugging his shoulders. "We don't know how, but she made it onto the train alright."

"Is that so?" Mom gave one of those pleasantly menacing smile, and as we all progressed forward towards the Dauntless compound, she came up beside me and put an arm around my shoulder. "I hope this serves as an ultimate lesson to you. The life of a Dauntless includes many experiences just like that, and it's one you will _never _take part in. Do you understand?"

So it was a lesson. It was one of my first scholarly lessons. Mom had a cruel sense of humor, to be sure, but even as the falling sensation of my jump haunted the corner of my mind, I clung on to Mom and was pleased when she didn't pull away. I had a lot to learn, but in the end, I was happy to be learning it all from her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Hi everyone! Here's the next chapter. This one was fun to write, and I hope you like it! Have the greatest day ever.

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**10.**

**Age 10**

**I remember the first time I attended one of Mom's work parties. It was an elaborate spread of colors and of people, and after I got in a fight with one of the Abnegation leader's daughters and reflected poorly on Mom's public image, I was pretty sure it'd be my last work party.**

I couldn't _believe _how many people were there. It was a spread of all colors and all factions, and everyone looked so happy. There were other children running around like practical barbarians, but I stood stoutly by Mom's side. Like she always said, I was to behave like the pivot of perfection whenever we were in public. I was a direct reflection of her, so everything I did came back to her own image.

"Jeanine," said a voice from the side. I looked up and saw a tall man dressed in a black and white suit come over to us. He took Mom's hand and kissed it, and he then looked down at me, his eyes widening. "Is this your… Daughter? I never knew you had a daughter, Jeanine."

"Yes," said Mom, her tone slightly edgy. "This is f12g94r. f12g94r, this is Jack Kang, leader of Candor."

That was really weird, but I didn't care. I knew that Mom had to talk to her fellow leaders and that my presence would inevitably complicate matters. Leaving her to parlay with all the fancy people, I went over to a group of nearby children. They were dressed in gray, and as I stopped to chat for a few minutes, a little wretch with a long, blonde ponytail confronted me.

"You're an Erudite," she said, her blue eyes narrowed.

"Yes, I am." I felt my tone rise a bit, proud of the fact. "My name is f12g94r, and I'm Jeanine Matthews' daughter. Who are you? Whose daught –"

"Your mom's a _bitch_."

There it was: another forbidden word. Of all things to hear at a party, this petty name-calling wasn't one of them. I just stared, and as this girl – Beatrice, someone called her – continued to glare at me, I felt strong emotion boiling in my stomach. I remembered what it felt like when Mrs. Applebaum called Mom an "alcoholic," and I remembered how I had taken action.

Simultaneously, another part of me remembered that I was a child and that these children were supposed to be my friends, but I dismissed the thought. I didn't hold any attachment to Beatrice or to Abnegation, so like all forbidden-word weasels, she had to be punished.

Mom told me to always follow and adhere to the scientific method. Science was the answer to everything, and a wise, inquisitive mind was one that followed its example. So when I glared over at Beatrice and her long, tangled blonde hair, a hypothesis popped into my head. I reasoned that she would get visibly upset and irritated if I walked over to her and cut a piece out of her hair, and as I moved forward and brought out my knife, I had an inkling that my suspicions were correct.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"f12g94!" With blood pounding through my ears, I stopped and stepped away as Mom and Andrew Prior came running over to us. Beatrice was crying like a pathetic baby, and the expression on Andrew's face was one of panic and aggression. He swooped Beatrice into his arms while holding her tight, and Mom bent down to look me full in the face. "What did you do?"

"She insulted you." Tears were falling down my cheeks, and whereas Andrew rocked and cuddled Beatrice, Mom merely looked at me. "She told me you were a, you were a... _bitch_, so I decided to punish her."

"Punish her _how_, f12g94r?"

"I cut off her hair." My voice was barely a whisper, and I could tell Mom didn't understand me.

"You have to speak louder."

"I cut off her hair."

"Say it again." Mom's eyes were cold, and I could tell that she clearly heard every word.

"I cut off her hair." My voice was crisp and clear, but Mom continued to stare at me, her face hard. I knew what she wanted, so I took in a deep breath. "I CUT OFF HER HAIR!"

As my voice echoed around the room, everyone at the party stopped talking and Beatrice stopped crying. She tossed me a filthy, ugly look, and though it didn't compare to Mom's green, avocado face when she woke up in the morning, it sent chills down my spine. When I looked over at Mom, though, the corners of her lips were twitching in what appeared to be the beginnings of a smile.

"Well, Jeanine," said Andrew, leaving Beatrice's side to come confront us. "It appears that we have a little problem."

"I don't know what you're talking about." My heart started to beat a little bit faster, and I looked up at Mom with wonder. Was she… defending me?

"Your daughter," said Andrew, his nostrils flaring, "just cut off my daughter's hair!"

Looking over at Beatrice's disheveled mat of chunky hair, Mom narrowed her eyes. "I don't see a difference."

Subconsciously, I tucked the length of Beatrice's ponytail into my pocket, hidden from view.

Beatrice started to cry again, and as Andrew went over to comfort her, he shot Mom a look of pure hatred. "I don't know how you Erudite can be so cruel. I have a violated, heart- broken little girl, and all you can do is snicker and pretend that your devilish daughter did nothing wrong."

"She didn't." At that Mom moved closer, her eyes trained on the two Abnegations. "I told f12g94r to do it, so she did. She's a good girl, and she's _certainly _going to achieve better things than _that _pathetic excuse of a child."

Beatrice let out another wail, and Mom merely grabbed my hand and then walked away towards the door. Every single person at the party silently watched us, and as their eyes burned on the back of my head, Mom gave my hand a little squeeze. "Don't worry about them, f12g94r. They're nothing more than peons in the grander scheme of things, and I'm very proud of you for what you've done." She paused to smile at me, and I felt my heart flutter. "Perhaps you're a better daughter than I thought you'd be."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N:** Hey everyone! So sorry for the hiatus. I've been SUPER busy with work and with life. There's always something. Anyway, here's another little drabble with some more philosophical-type musings. I hope you enjoy this little blip, and I'm working on the next installment as well! Thanks for reading and for the support, and please let me know what you think! Also, let me know if you have any suggestions for future chapters!

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**11.**

**Age 10**

** I got a text message from Mom earlier when she was downstairs and I was upstairs. It read "TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE BY NEXT TUESDAY." I know it sounds like she's screaming, but she's really not. She just likes to leave everything in caps so that she comes across as more powerful.**

When it came down to it, Mom had a lot of little tricks like that. I had them memorized and internalized since she was my mother and I saw her every day, but I realize that it may not be as evident to everyone else.

The best example I can think of is her smile. To most people, a smile is a smile, and there's nothing else to it. With Mom, however, a smile can be used as weaponry, and it's one of her most powerful forces of manipulation. People trust and take comfort from a smile, so when one utilizes it correctly, they can misrepresent themselves. Mom does it all the time with the other faction leaders, and she tries to do it with me except that I already know what she's doing.

Most prominent is when she tricked that Abnegation fool Prior into letting her have access to the strongest memory serums. She said that she'd been building Abnegation's confidence for months before she asked, but when it came down to it, they still didn't trust her. They worried that she'd use it for her experiments and would ultimately mistreat it, but when gathered before the council, Mom spread her teeth wide and assured everyone that she wouldn't. After a few hours of coaxing and smiling, they finally gave it to her, and now she could completely obliterate anyone's memory.

Another thing that Mom does is "pretending to be nice." She does that _all _the time, especially with kids. The other faction leaders all have younger children, so whenever Mom's around them, she acts so uncharacteristically nice that I wonder who she is. She certainly never treats me (the replica of her DNA) like that, so I understand that it's a show and a convincing one at that. Some children would get jealous, but I don't because I don't see it the way normal people do. I see it for what it is (a charade), and the revelation of that fact is compellingly comforting.

One time, however, Mom was _too _convincing. We were at an outing with all the other faction leaders, and Andrew Prior was there with Caleb and Beatrice. It wasn't a secret that Beatrice and I didn't get along (I mean, I _did _cut off her hair), but the fact that Mom acted all nice to her was just too much.

"Why hello there, Beatrice," said Mom, bending down to smile at Beatrice's ugly face. "Your hair looks lovely! I think a shorter cut suits you."

"Yeah, because F cut it all off!"

Mom smiled and then put a hand on Beatrice's shoulder, patting it softly. "How darling. Why don't you go play with little f12g94r?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Jeanine." Andrew came walking out from the next room, and his angry blue eyes were trained on Mom's innocently-wide gray ones. "I have a feeling that your daughter can't be trusted."

"And I have a feeling that yours is cruelly mistreated."

"Excuse me?" Andrew came up to put his hand on Beatrice's other shoulder, his grip tight. "Just stop, Jeanine. You're not being funny."

"Oh, I'm not trying to be. All I'm saying is that a man who allows his child to get bullied must not have raised her properly."

"You would know because you're _such _the model parent yourself, right?"

"I know a lot of things." There was Mom's smile, delicately sweet and sultry. "And I'd put that into perspective if I were you, Andrew."

It was then that Mom turned to Beatrice and did something remarkably strange. She bent down again so that she was facing her, and as she took Beatrice's dirty little hands into hers, she whispered "Please let me know if you ever need anything, darling."

She then kissed Beatrice's forehead (the little misfit screamed and then yanked free, crying into her father's waist), but it wasn't _that _notion that irked my very soul.

Mom never used pet names. She just didn't. They were petty and fake, and they ultimately served no purpose. It was biologically proven that people react strongly and positively to their actual names, so Mom made it a point to always refer to them as so and to never use pet names. It never bothered me because it was one of her set rules, but when I heard her call Beatrice "darling," I just couldn't help the wave of hurt and jealousy that overpowered my common sense.

As Mom turned to leave, I stayed where I was and watched Beatrice. Her face was red and puffy, and Andrew had his hand on her head and his arm weaved tightly around her waist. His eye caught mine, and before he could say anything, I reached out and pulled at the center of Beatrice's head.

She screamed, and as I continued to pull and as Andrew started to shout, I didn't even feel his hand yank desperately at mine. It was against Abnegation policies to physically hurt another human being, so I knew Andrew wouldn't hurt me. He let go after a moment, his face pained, and as I dug my nails deeper into Beatrice's scalp, I stared at him full in the face. "There's nothing you can do. I have you right where I want you."

"f12g94r!" I heard Mom's heels click hurriedly in my direction, but I held on. Beatrice's limbs were flailing and she was trying to run away, but I wrapped my other arm securely across her chest and held her there, feeling adrenaline flow through my body as I realized I was seriously hurting her.

Rougher hands latched onto mine and broke my hold, and as I continued to stare at Beatrice and Andrew and sneer at how Andrew was anxiously searching Beatrice's head for blood, a low voice sounded in my ear. "What do you think you're doing? I didn't tell you to attack her today."

"But I wanted to." I turned to glare over at Mom, slightly surprised to see her staring calmly at me. "It wasn't because I was defending you, though." I paused, thinking. "It was because I just hate her."

As Mom rolled her eyes and tugged me away from the scene, ignoring Andrew's furious yowls as we picked up our pace and then rushed into a company car, I _couldn't _tell her the truth. Jealousy was a weak human quality of love and inferiority, so she couldn't know that I possessed such a trait. She had to think I was truly just wicked and vile, and with all my heart, I would convince her that it was true.

But deep down inside, I was hurt. I really loved Mom, and it killed me that she'd call a completely wretched girl like Beatrice a pet name and never call me anything. It was all Beatrice's fault, and as I stared out the window and watched the buildings slide in and out of focus, I vowed to make the little brat pay for having everything that I ever wanted and then throwing it all away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent series.**

**A/N: **Bonjour tout le monde! Here is another chapter. I just love playing around with the rash, insensitive things Jeanine would do as a mother. I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think! Have a great day :)

* * *

**Mommy Dearest**

**12.**

**Age 9**

"Mom." I knew I was breaking all of the rules, but I just couldn't help it. Shivering in my faded blue nightgown, I pulled at the edge of Mom's sleeve, watching her face.

It was green and crusty because Mom put on this weird avocado mask every night before she went to bed. She explained that it took away the evil horrors called "wrinkles," and she assured me that all important people had to take such proactive measures. Regardless, it still seemed like she couldn't even breathe under that thing, but now wasn't the time to worry about it.

"Ahhh," said Mom, the corners of her lips twitching. "That's just how I like it."

"Mom?" She was talking, but it didn't seem to be coherent. I shook her shoulder again, hoping the contact would better stimulate her brain.

"Margaritas." Mom let out a sigh before her breath slowed down again, and I knew it was almost hopeless.

"MOM!" Just like that, Mom's eyelids snapped open and she sat up straight. She let out a little shriek when she saw me, but after she recognized who I was, her eyes narrowed and her breathing regulated.

"f12g94r!" She was stern despite being half-asleep, and it really was quite impressive how she mustered the energy. "What on EARTH do you think you're doing?! You're interrupting my beauty sleep!"

"I had another bad dream."

Silence followed my words, but after a few intense moments of me staring at Mom's avocado mask and Mom watching me watch her mask, it was broken.

"There, there, f12g94r." Mom wrapped her arms around me and let me sob into her chest. I felt her hand rub my back while another ran through my hair. "It'll be alright. I'll hook you up to a brain simulator and see where the bad dreams are coming from, okay? There's nothing to worry about, f12g94r. Mommy will take care of it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"This won't hurt at all," Mom explained as she placed the simulator's helmet on my head. It felt cool and heavy as she wiggled it into place, but when I closed my eyes, I snapped them open at once.

"OW! Mom, I can feel sparks go into my head! And it HURTS!"

"Of course it'll hurt," Mom snorted, pushing me back down.

"But you just said that it wouldn't."

"Well," said Mom, readjusting some wires, "I lied. Now close your eyes and go to sleep. If you can't do so naturally, I'll have to inject you with a sleep serum."

That's just the way it worked with Mom. Everything was always so simple and so precise. Sighing, I closed my eyes and winced as the sparks started to filter through to my head. I got used to it after a while, and thankfully I soon started to drift off into sleep.

Bright lights filled my vision as I stepped onto the hot gravel of the schoolyard. The screams and cries of happy children enveloped me as I made my way forward, and I smelled the soft fragrance of lilacs as I neared the school building. Some blurred faces ran by me, causing me to stagger as I got swept away by their draft, and when I recomposed myself and stood up straight, I felt the warmth and color drain from my face.

Standing in front of the doors was Mom, dressed up in her blue man suit and equipped with a long, leather whip. Her face was a snarled mask of evil, and as I turned around and fled towards the bushes, her laugh whizzed through my ears.

"You can't run from me, f12g9r," she growled, her voice following me everywhere I ran. "I know everything about you. There's nothing you can hide, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

I felt my adrenaline start flowing as I hurriedly made for an abandoned car. I had no idea how to drive and I had no idea why I thought I could do it, but I jumped inside, turned the key, and then sped off into the distance.

Actual pain filled my senses as Mom ripped off the helmet and unplugged the cords. Dazed, I slowly opened my eyes to see Mom typing furiously on a computer while tossing dirty looks at me.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I rasped, feeling tears slide down my cheeks. I knew that she had looked into my mind and had seen everything that I dreamt about, and I knew she was hurt and disgusted at the fact that she haunted the dreams of her own DNA replication. "I don't know why I dreamed that!"

"I don't think there's anything left to say," Mom snapped, pausing to put a hand on her forehead. "I'm sorry that you're having bad dreams, but I'm even sorrier that your mind is infected with an inaccurate, uncalled for imagination."

"I can't help it, Mom!" I got out of my bed and moved over to her. "Mom, I love you! You know that! Why would I dream that you'd be trying to hurt me? Why would I _ever _run away from you?"

Mom just wouldn't have it. She pushed me away as I ran up to hug her, and as she gathered her equipment and exited out of my bedroom, she slammed the door shut and left me in total darkness.

As much as I loved her, Mom just didn't understand. She really didn't. Of course she was scary and of course I apparently am scared of her in my subconscious dream state, but that didn't mean that I felt that way about her in real life. That didn't mean anything _at all._

Climbing back into bed, I pulled my covers over my mouth and tried to fall back asleep. I was afraid of what I would dream, but more importantly, I was afraid of what I perhaps actually truly felt.


End file.
